Maneater
by Dingbat142001
Summary: Oneshot. She's a Maneater, make you want all of her love.  Danny and Lindsay bust some moves at a club. Very random


**Title: Maneater**

**Rating: **FRT**  
Disclaimer: **I don't own anything. Just the idea.**  
Spoilers: **Um, don't think so…

**Summary: **Oneshot. She's a Maneater, make you want all of her love. Danny and Lindsay bust some moves at a club.

Something I've wanted to see has been Danny and Lindsay busting some moves at a club. Chances are, this will not happen, so I have made it happen.

Lyrics: Maneater: Nelly Furtado. I just thought of D/L when I heard this song. We all know Danny cant resist her ;)

FYI, I don't go clubbing, and I honestly, don't dance (other than Macarena). I apologize if the moves or actions aren't ones people normally do.

FYI, Very random fic!

* * *

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Everybody look at me, me_

_I walk in the door you start screaming_

_Come on everybody whatcha here for?_

_Move your body around like a nympho_

_Everybody get your necks to crack around_

_All you crazy people come on jump around_

_I want to see you all on your knees, knees_

_You either want to be with me, or be me!_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The heavy bass surrounded them as they weaved through the hot air, and sweaty bodies of the club, spilt drinks at their feet, symphonies of light above their heads. Occasionally a back would bump into him, while ahead, she would duck as an elbow flew out of no where, never releasing her hold on his hand, pulling him further into the thick of bumping and grinding, and other well hidden acts of the dance floor.

Why were they here? Better yet, why was _he_ here?

Simple answer.

He was whipped. Completely and utterly pawned by a Southern drawl and cowgirl boots.

Okay, so the thought of being pressed up against her while she moved with him, wasn't entirely a horrible idea, and so what if the jeans she wore didn't exactly displease him; but why did they have to come here to do this sorta thing, while they could have easily done much more in the privacy of his (or her, didn't matter) bedroom?

Because she wanted to.

And as stated before, she says 'Jump.', he says 'How high?'

So when she said 'Danny, I want to go dancing', he said 'Sure.'

A foolish word that he instantly regretted as soon as it slipped out of his mouth. So now, forty-five minutes later, with a beer or two under their respective belts, she was pulling him into a bad decision, that he knew he couldn't very well take back. But then again, he realized he didn't really want to when she stopped, and wrapped her arms around his neck, all the while smirking to beat skin hell. Encircling her waist, he let the music lead.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Maneater,_

_Make you work hard_

_Make you spend hard_

_Make you want all of her love_

_She's a maneater_

_Make you buy cars_

_Make you cut cards_

_Make you fall real hard in love_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

This was both new and quite familiar at the same time. The crowd, the jostling, the proximity to strangers; of course he had danced as a child (Nana had said that the way to a woman's heart was through footwork), but it wasn't something he excelled in, and would rather not bust his moves in public, but the familiarity of the body pressed against his, and the fingertips that grazed the back of his neck, or that gripped his bicep were nothing but road mapped into his nervous system. He knew those hands better than his own; every knuckle, every cuticle, even her prints were scanned into his own personal AFIS.

Just as he was getting lost in her heated, seemingly innocent, caresses, he was abruptly pulled from his thoughts when he felt her leg slide between his and rub their thighs together, moving her hips in unison with his. She moaned when he ran one hand up underneath her shirt, while the other ran up her thigh. Damn, but he was enjoying this.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_She's a Maneater,_

_Make you work hard_

_Make you spend hard_

_Make you want all of her love_

_She's a maneater_

_Make you buy cars_

_Make you cut cards_

_Wish you never ever met her at all!_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

So this is what they meant by the phrase 'Having as much fun as you can in your clothes'. That phrases always struck his as odd, but now, with this wild girl in his arms, it all made sense now.

Looking down, his eyes roamed over the figure against him. A black halter-top, that made him almost fall over when he saw her in it for the first time, hugged her curves in all the right places, and allowed a nice, though appreciatively conservative view of her cleavage. Hanging mid chest was a pair of his dog tags she often liked to peel off of him and parade around in. Though he didn't tell her, 'cause he guessed she already knew, those tags were what he believed to be equivalent to a promise ring, or matching necklaces. He loved it when she wore them, 'cause everyone he's even known, knew they were his. Around her hips wore those aforementioned jeans that made he legs go for miles, and protruding at the end, where those cowgirl boots, that he was quite fond of. Yeehaw!

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_And when she walks, she walks with passion_

_When she talks, she talks like she can handle it_

_When she asks for something, boy, she means it_

_Even if you never ever seen it_

_Everybody get your necks to crack around_

_All you crazy people come on jump around_

_You doing anything to keep her by your side_

_Because she said she love you, love you long time!_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Feeling her shift against him, he focused all this attention on her movements. Somehow without his knowing, she had turned around, and now had her back against his chest, and was practically sitting on his bent open knees. She would swing her hips, making her backside come in contact with him, while her one hand held his under her shirt, and the other weaved through the hair at the back of his neck.

He inhaled her bouquet of floral, sweat, and a smell all her own, when her head leaned against his shoulder, making her hair rub against his check, and exposing a creamy throat. He smirked into her neck when he pulled her tighter against him, and she gasped, letting out a sultry chuckle, into his ear.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_Maneater,_

_Make you work hard_

_Make you spend hard_

_Make you want all of her love_

_She's a maneater_

_Make you buy cars_

_Make you cut cards_

_Make you fall real hard in love_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

God, her hips were killing him. He has seen those hips work on numerous occasions, but they never failed to bring him to his knees, while her hands took him straight to the ground; those same hands that were currently tugging the hair at the back of his neck, while the other one, clasped with his, ran down her side.

He groaned when she gently nipped his earlobe, while he retaliated and dug his canines into the junction where her neck and shoulder met, resulting in a low moan. Placing open mouthed kisses he soothed the spot, while his hot breath caressed the area. He gently kissed the mark when he saw her shiver.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

_She's a Maneater,_

_Make you work hard_

_Make you spend hard_

_Make you want all of her love_

_She's a maneater_

_Make you buy cars_

_Make you cut cards_

_Wish you never ever met her at all!_

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

He kissed up her neck as she shimmied against him, completely unaware of his hailing until she chuckled into his ear, running her hand down his thigh.

"Babe, you're vibrating."

"Hmm?"

"You're phone, it's vibrating."

Moving a hand, he felt his pocket. Sure enough, she was right. How odd that he couldn't feel it, while she clearly could. Then again, he wasn't really paying attention to what was happening in his pockets.

Flipping it open, the name 'Mac' flashed on the screen, telling him he had a phone call. Taking her by the hand, he pulled her through the crowd to a table far enough off the dance floor that hearing wouldn't be inhibited.

Pressing the talk button, he answered the call.

"Messer."

Mac was saying something; something about a body at some uptown neighbourhood, but he couldn't be sure, with the way Lindsay was nipping his neck, and running her hand down his chest. Pulling her hand away, he craned his neck just out of her reach.

"Nah, I'm good."

But really, he sure as hell wasn't when she pulled on his belt and stuck her other hand into his back pocket, stretching to kiss along his jawbone.

"Uh huh…" pulling his hand over the phone, "Behave", then moved back to the phone. "I'll be right there."

Closing his cell, he turned to Lindsay, who had settled for resting her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder.

"I know, you gotta go." She told him, as he wrapped an arm around her waist, leading her towards the exit of the club.

"Sorry hon." kissing her temple, "I'll drop you off."

"At your place."

"Hmmm? My place? I'm not gonna be there." He inquired, opening the door to a deathly quiet New York night.

"I know. I just like being in your bed." She nuzzled into his neck.

Danny wasn't gonna complain.

Music to his ears.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ I don't go clubbing, and I honestly, don't dance (other than Macarena). I apologize if the moves or actions aren't ones people normally do. 


End file.
